The Mojave Remembers
by sunset for one
Summary: A young woman wakes up in an unfamiliar place with almost no memory of anything that has happened to her. With the aid of the Mojave's finest, she will try to uncover her mysterious past and deal with any unfinished business. Along the way she might just learn about character, grit, friendship, and a love that can endure.


Hallo, leute. (Hello, everyone.) This will be my first story for this website in many years. I'm excited to be back and hope to bring an enjoyable experience as I build the characters and plot of this story. My disclaimer for the entirety of the story is that all recogniseable, related, borrowed, and copied material from Fallout New Vegas does not belong to me, but Bethesda. I do not intend to infringe upon intellectual property rights, merely to pay homage to the game by exploring and adding upon its lore. Without further ado, I present to you "The Mojave Remembers."

Chapter One: Call Me Six

Her eyes open, slowly at first, shutting again once or twice as she fights for consciousness. Her head throbs with a sort of pain that she knows should be a lot worse than it currently is. Then her eyes are open, really open. She realizes she doesn't know where she is and that she's only wearing small clothes. She sits up and immediately regrets it.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy there," a voice to her left drawls. She snaps toward it, but that only renews the floaters that cloud her sight. "You've been out cold a couple 'a days now. Let's start simple. I'm Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings. How about your name? Can you tell me your name?"

When her vision clears enough for her to make out the shapes around her, so she looks up. The man in front of her is old, bald on top with a grey moustache below. She stares at him. A few pensive moments edge by.

"Can you hear me?" he asks. She nods slowly. It's a simple question, yet she finds that no, she cannot, in fact, tell him her name. She wants to. She wants to desperately, but there is no memory of a name - not her own, not anybody's. Panic creeps into the corner of her mind.

She mumbles a few syllables, but none sound quite right. She clenches her eyes shut in concentration. After a minute, she exhales. She looks back up at him, ashamed of being defeated by her own brain.

The man smiles. "I wouldn't worry about that too much now. Gettin' shot in the head'll wipe your noggin' clean for a bit," he says.

She cocks her head at him. "Shot?" she manages. Her throat is dry, and it feels as though it cracks when the word comes out. She winces.

"That's my prognosis, anyway. Not too often you find a young lady with lead naturally occurring in her skull, after all," he chuckles. Her face remains flat. "Right, sorry. They brought you in about three days ago after that metal fella, Victor, dug you up. Have to say, I didn't think you'd make it, but apparently that bullet there didn't scramble anything too important."

"Do you know who shot me?" she asks. She can't remember the last person she spoke to. There were a few flashes of… black hair? No, wait, brown. Wait, black. Black for sure. Short, well-groomed, black hair. She smiles to herself, pleased at the simple recollection.

"There were three of them- couple 'a Great Khans and this real fancy city-slicker. Came into town about a day or so before the incident. They mostly kept to the saloon, so I can't tell you too much more about them. Trudy, she owns the saloon, might be able to tell you more. Or you could try Sunny Smiles. She hangs around there when she's not off huntin' and such."

Great Khans. She isn't sure why, but the name is familiar. She knows this name, and she knows it well. She's used it before, tasted it on her lips, but she doesn't know when or where or why. She only remembers the emotions, the fear and the panic and the relief and the warmth and the shame. She has no idea who the third man could be.

She stands, forgetting where she is. Her ears ring a bit, and everything begins to tunnel. She thinks she might pass out, but she doesn't. Still, the doctor comes over to steady her.

"Well, now. That's a start. Why don't we try walking over to that dresser there? I had to throw away the clothes you had on you, what with them being soaked in blood and all. Somethin' of my wife's old things ought to fit you though," Mitchell says. It's a slow process, but together they make it to the dresser. Mitchell leaves to give her privacy, telling her to come to the kitchen when she's ready.

The clothes are old and smell of desert musk. She's not surprised, but perhaps a little disappointed, to find mostly dresses. She remembers not liking how they feel during a sandstorm. The only thing she finds that even resembles pants is an old vault jumpsuit. She thinks it says 21, although the digits are mostly faded. She pulls it on up to her waist and uses the arms to tie it off. A grey t-shirt, perhaps one of Mitchell's that ended up in the dresser by mistake, completes her ensemble.

When she walks into the kitchen, Doc Mitchell is scooping an omelette onto a plate. He gestures for her to sit, and they make small talk as they eat across from each other. It takes a while, but she manages to convince him that she's well enough to leave. When they are finished, Mitchell walks her to the door.

He hands her a few bottle caps, a 9mm pistol, and a folded up scrap of paper. Sheepishly, Mitchell explains that he read the note to find some next of kin but only found something about a platinum chip and a Courier Six. She does not remember the chip, and she can only assume that she is Courier Six. When she tries to read the note for herself, she finds that she cannot understand the markings before her. She does not mention this to Mitchell. The last thing he hands her is an old combat knife, sharp, with a two-headed bear emblazoned on the pommel. She doesn't remember its significance.

She puts everything but the caps into a backpack she's told is hers. She tries to give the caps to Mitchell, but he refuses them, telling her she'll need them more. Her hand is on the doorknob when he stops her. "So what're we gonna call you?"

She pauses.

"Call me Six."


End file.
